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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125291">Wisp</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyslove/pseuds/fireflyslove'>fireflyslove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Chain of Light (Worf/Jadzia DS9) [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Deep Space Nine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Family, Jadzia Dax Lives, Kid Fic, Pregnancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:35:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,313</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyslove/pseuds/fireflyslove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jadzia's pregnant, but Worf's the one having the cow.</p><p>Will Worf have an aneurysm? Is Sazi the most terrifying being in existence? Will Ben Sisko return from the dead? These questions and more at 11.</p><p>Or, Sazi. </p><p>ALSO or, a mildly chronological account of Jadzia's pregnancy.</p><p>(Rules of Acquisition, a Chain of Light Miniseries, PART THE SECOND)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jadzia Dax/Worf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Chain of Light (Worf/Jadzia DS9) [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1500980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There's hints dropped here re: What the hell Ezri's been doing, but I have no idea what she's been doing, so we'll figure that out later.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Kasidy:</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The door chimed, and before Jadzia had a chance to answer it, it slid open, and Hatrel ran in, liberally streaked in mud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bex got into a biiiiig puddle!” they said, jumping up into Jadzia’s lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She set down the padd she had been reading, and caught them. “And you followed her in?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did!” they sounded very proud of themself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hatrel!” An exhausted voice called from down the corridor. Seconds later, Kasidy appeared in the doorway, her daughter on one hip. “Shit, I’m sorry. I tried to get them to take a bath, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia waved her hand. “It’s fine, this will wash. I take it you all had fun?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bex decided she wanted to make mudpies,” Kasidy said, and Bex waved her fists. At just over a year old, she still had cheeks that Jadzia just wanted to squish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Jadzia said. “One of Emony’s daughters went through a phase like that. A bit older than Bex is, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should have expected Ben’s child to want to play in Bajor’s dirt,” Kasidy said. “I was born and raised on a freighter. Raising a child planetside is proving enlightening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been meaning to thank you for taking Hatrel to Bajor so often,” Jadzia said. “I wish I could get away more, but between Worf being away so much of the time and my own duties, I barely have enough time to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And with the new baby, you’ll have even less time. Is Worf planning to stick around for a while after they’re born?” Kasidy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia jumped, and looked sharply at the woman. “What new baby?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Kasidy said. “Sorry, I just assumed. You have a certain look about you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Jadzia glanced down at the floor where Hatrel had slid to and was playing a simple game on a padd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not wrong,” Jadzia said. “But no one but Worf and Julian knows yet. I’d like to wait a little longer before I make a big announcement. Though… with a half-Klingon child, who knows how long that will be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations,” Kasidy said with a warm smile. “I’m sure your child will be terrifying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That startled a genuine laugh out of Jadzia. “I’m almost certain of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kira:</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The holosuite program Quark had promised would be “the most invigorating thing they had ever done” had failed to live up to its hype. Even a little bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They call that </span>
  <em>
    <span>dancing</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Kira asked, looking at the holograms writhing on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks like they’re trying to imitate worms,” Jadzia said. “Computer, end program.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to have a word with Quark,” Kira muttered. “Get a refund.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go with you,” Jadzia said, and the two of them stalked down the staircase to the bar’s lower floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quark took one look at them advancing on him, and ducked behind the bar, ostensibly to clean something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Quark!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Kira snapped in a growl that had to be a direct impression of Odo or Jadzia would eat her boots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I do for you two ladies?” Quark said, popping up and glancing between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kira snapped the holoprogram down on the counter in front of him. “You can give me a refund.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Quark said. “Holosuite programs are non-refundable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kira grabbed the front of Quark’s shirt. “I suggest you change your policy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I can interest you in something else?” Quark said, reaching behind him for a box. “A nice romance holonovel? Something with a windswept moor? They’re very popular with the humans lately. Or maybe something else? Target practice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kira’s glower intensified. “Something with a good story,” she said. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>writhing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, try this,” Quark said, handing her a pink object. “Great reviews. No writhing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kira released his shirt, and he tugged it straight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I get you anything to drink?” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spring wine,” Kira said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prune juice,” Jadzia said, not really paying attention to her order. She didn’t see Kira’s odd glance at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quark delivered them promptly, and they retreated to one of the upstairs tables. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that was interesting,” Kira said. “What were they </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea,” Jadzia said. “But it was very… flexible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kira snorted. “I’ll definitely give them that.” A moment of companionable silence passed. “So you’re drinking prune juice now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I?” Jadzia asked, looking down at her cup. “So I am. Figures.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that what Worf usually drinks?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Hatrel. Must run in the family.” Jadzia idly scratched the side of her neck. Her spots always itched mildly lately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jadzia,” Kira said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not here,” Jadzia said, glancing around at the proximity of their neighbors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My quarters?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kira’s quarters were close by, and it only took them a few moments to get there. Once the door was shut behind them, Kira turned to Jadzia, a smile trying to burst out the corners of her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Jadzia!” Kira said. “I’m so happy for you! When…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia shrugged. “Hybrid Klingon pregnancies are wildly unpredictable, according to Julian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kira pulled her into a hug, and Jadzia returned it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worf is going to lose his mind,” Kira said. “Do you remember how he was when I was very pregnant with Yoshi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not afraid to knock his head in, if he needs it,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Kira said. “Your kid is going to be a force to be reckoned with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ezri:</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After solving her Great Mystery, Ezri had elected not to return to Starfleet, and instead to try to use Neve’s unique gifts to help the less fortunate. She still came back to DS9 on occasion, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for Jadzia, Ezri found her just outside Jadzia’s quarters, rubbing her face against the bulkhead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you… all right?” Ezri asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia jumped. “Shit! Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. You just startled me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Ezri said. “But you just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was rubbing my face against the wall,” Jadzia said. “It seems to be the only thing that will stop the itching.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How pregnant are you?” Ezri asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost three months,” Jadzia said automatically. “Wait, how did you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Itchy spots,” Ezri said. “Neve </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> have all of Dax’s memories. Aren’t they supposed to be gone by now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They can last the entire time,” Jadzia said miserably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations anyway,” Ezri said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it worth dying over?” Ezri asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If anyone else had asked that question, Jadzia probably would’ve smacked them, but given Ezri’s… unique position, she laughed instead. “Yeah, it was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy for you two,” Ezri said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of, how’s that working out for you?” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s impossible,” Ezri said, rolling her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Men,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starfleet officers,” Ezri said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d take offense to that, but it’s true,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It applies to former Starfleet officers, too,” Ezri said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It absolutely does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This kid is pure distilled stubbornness, aren’t they?” Ezri said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That seems to be the general opinion,” Jadzia said, cracking a grin. “I’m inclined to agree.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Plot makes an appearance!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“When is this child due?” she asked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have no idea,” Julian admitted. “There aren’t very many Klingon hybrid pregnancies in the records, and most of those have had a human parent. Klingons typically carry their children for thirty weeks, and the human hybrids are even shorter. But, as far as I know, your child is the first recorded case of a Trill-Klingon hybrid.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“And a Trill gestation period is almost double that,” Jadzia said. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Exactly. I’ll be able to get you a better answer in a few weeks. If I had to venture a guess, I’d lean more toward the shorter side, but don’t bet on that.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had been two weeks ago, and now Jadzia was, rather impatiently, waiting for Julian’s answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still don’t know,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall her objections, “I have a far more educated guess, but it could be off by as much as three weeks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give it to me,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Forty five weeks,” he said. “About the split difference. But I would not be surprised if your child comes sooner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, everyone seems to think this kid is going to be the most terrifying being to ever exist,” Jadzia said. “So the mystery just adds to that aura.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That it does,” Julian said. “Would you like to see them?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got holograms,” Julian said. “They were necessary to solve some issues with the gene resequencing. I can take genetic samples and predict, with some accuracy, what they will look like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Jadzia said. “But not right now. I want Worf to share that experience.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Julian said. “I’ll need some time to fiddle with the data anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent. Same time next week?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Julian nodded, and Jadzia left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She went to collect Hatrel from their babysitter. Eeyso was a teenage Bajoran, the daughter of one of the engineers. Hatrel was more than happy to see her, and Eeyso seemed relieved to see them go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think they’re hungry,” she said. “But they wouldn’t eat anything I offered them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Jadzia said. “That sounds about right. They’re refusing to eat anything that isn’t raw and wriggling right now. Channeling Worf, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eeyso made a face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Jadzia said. “But if it gets them to eat.” She shrugged. “Come on, Hatrel. Let’s go get you some nice targ.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hatrel grinned savagely, a strangely adorable expression on their small face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hot bloody targ!” they said in Klingon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, exactly,” Jadzia said. It had taken some reprogramming, but the replicator would now produce hot, bloody targ. Nutritionally it was everything Hatrel needed, but it satisfied their textural needs at the same time. It was a far more elegant solution than trying to get them to ‘eat their vegetables’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia was on her back in Ops, fiddling with the connections of her station. The left screen’s buttons were on the fritz, and the engineer Starfleet had sent to replace Chief O’Brien was not quite as prompt as he had been. A pair of boots appeared next to her head, and then someone’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lieutenant Commander Dax?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The same,” she said. He didn’t look familiar, but he was wearing a Starfleet uniform. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wormed her way out and then to her feet. “How can I help you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He proffered a padd, “This is from Starfleet Command.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took it, quickly skimmed the orders, and swore silently. “Thank you,” she said, distracted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will meet you at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Irascible  </span>
  </em>
  <span>in two hours,” he said, and without another word, left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She more closely examined the padd, and swore out loud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abandoning her repairs, she went to Kira’s office and entered without ringing the bell. Kira looked up from her screen, her face a question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Starfleet sent me orders,” Jadzia said, holding out the padd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira took it and read it quickly. “Well that’s not good,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They don’t know about…” Kira gestured toward Jadzia’s torso.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you don’t want to tell them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I wasn’t expecting them to order me off the station for six weeks to do something unspecified,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can file a formal objection…” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that will take too long,” Jadzia finished for her. “If he wants me to meet him in two hours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit,” Kira said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira snapped her fingers, “Hatrel!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about them?” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re their sole caretaker. Worf too far away to be reached on such short notice,” Kira said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That guy won’t take that as an excuse,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First things first, are we sure these are actual Starfleet orders? Did the guy even identify himself to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He did not,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is very odd,” Kira said. She hit her combadge, “Kira to Security”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Security here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is a human male who left Ops…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five minutes ago,” Jadzia supplied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five minutes ago. He claims he’s Starfleet. I need him brought to my office.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Understood, ma’am.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes it’s good to be in charge,” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ten minutes later, the man was standing in Kira’s office, looking surly, flanked by stony-faced Bajoran security officers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not Starfleet,” Kira said flatly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re good,” the man said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t you like to know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why I’m asking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Interesting,” the man said. “But I’m not going to give it away that easily.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take him to detention,” Kira said. “Leave a guard on him. A few nights cooling his heels might make him more talkative.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I doubt it, Colonel,” the man said over his shoulder as the security officers led him away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the door closed behind him, Kira sat down heavily in her chair, and pinched her nose. “I miss Odo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m assuming you don’t just mean personally,” Jadzia said, hitching her hip onto the desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira laughed softly. “No. He would have this guy figured out in seconds, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He would,” Jadzia agreed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three days later, and the man still hadn’t said anything, he just sat on the floor of his cell, staring at the far wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can’t hold him indefinitely,” Kira said. “He hasn’t actually committed any crimes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Impersonating a Starfleet officer,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A slap on the wrist,” Kira said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doorbell rang, and Kira called “Enter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Julian came in, holding pad and a strange expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is about that person you’ve got in detention,” Julian said without preamble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about him?” Kira asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s Romulan,” Julian said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Romulan. And more than that, look at this,” he held out the padd, and Jadzia craned her neck to look at it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two sets of DNA were shown, but the rest was out of her area of expertise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This will be far quicker if you explain that,” Kira said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This,” Julian gestured to the left side, “is that man’s DNA. The other is Hatrel’s. Here and here there are shared genetic markers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has the same syndrome they do,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Julian said. “And he’s a functional adult.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is a Romulan disguised as a human Starfleet officer doing on the station, and what did he want by trying to get me away?” Jadzia asked, intending the questions to be rhetorical.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As it turned out, what he wanted was Hatrel. When confronted with the information of his species, the man, who finally gave his name as Vrotak, turned into a veritable fountain of information. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My cover is blown,” he said. “It would be suicide for me to go back. So instead I will give you the gift of fear. That you may sleep uneasily, never knowing when we will strike.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, just say what you’re going to say,” Kira said, rolling her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am a member of the Ossain,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that is….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are… different,” Vrotak said. “Those abandoned by the great Romulan Star Empire as children, too deformed to survive. We will make a new world, one where the abandoned and forgotten will rule.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re terrorists.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have done nothing,” Vrotak said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You tried to steal Hatrel,” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She was stolen from her people by a Klingon working for Starfleet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>They</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kira emphasized the pronoun, “were rescued from the street by their adoptive father. They were near death when he brought them to a doctor.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure he told you that,” Vrotek said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They were legally adopted,” Kira said. “WIth forms signed by a representative of the Romulan government. Their parents formally surrendered all rights to them, abandoned them at an orphanage, and then when they were sickest, the orphanage dumped them on the street.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You spin a nice story,’ Vrotek said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sympathize with your cause,” Kira said. “The marginalized seeking a better life. But with your methods… I have done heinous things in the name of a cause, but I cannot condone this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are bound by your rules, and I by mine,” he said. “Do with me what you will. There are more of us. Hatrel will return to her people.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira left him sitting in his cell and returned to the security office, where Jadzia was silently fuming. “I’m gonna punch him,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As satisfying as that would be,” Kira said, “you can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Jadzia said, “But it’s nice to contemplate. It’s probably a very good thing Worf isn’t here for this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right about that,” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did you not inform me earlier?” Worf was more than irritated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What good would it have done?” Jadzia asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would like to part him from his shoulders,” Worf said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So would I,” Jadzia said. “But we can’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And now there is a shadowy organization trying to kidnap Hatrel,” Worf said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia sighed. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re doing… nothing about this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t slept well in a week, Worf,” Jadzia snapped. “When I do, it’s in snatches on the floor of Hatrel’s room. I wake up every hour seized by terror that they’re gone. When I’m on duty, I ask the computer constantly for their position. Eeyso sends me constant updates, and I’m still nauseous with fear </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the time</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Tears welled up, and she curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worf pulled Jadzia bodily into his lap and hugged her tightly. “I apologize,” he said. “I did not consider my words.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s hard, Worf,” Jadzia said a while later, after the tears worked themselves out. “Hatrel misses you. I miss you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Worf said. “I miss you as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a while, and then Jadzia said. “Take them with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take Hatrel with me?” Worf asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That… is not a bad idea,” Worf said. “You should come as well. Martok would be more than happy to see you. I… have not yet told him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t right now,” Jadzia said. “But next time you come back… I will see if Kira can arrange a leave of absence.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will endear them all to Hatrel, first, then,” Worf said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t be hard,” Jadzia said. “They’re very convincing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced over at where the child was sleeping, their hair falling across their face in dark strands. In the low light of their quarters, Hatrel’s green undertones were particularly prominent, making them look almost as if they were some sort of plant to Jadzia’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to see someone try to kidnap them from a dozen heavily-armed Klingons,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will get them their own bat’leth,” Worf said. “Appropriately sized of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, let me do that with you,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will try to keep Martok from taking Hatrel to the armory,” Worf said, “but no promises.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Themes of racism and xenophobia for this chapter. </p>
<p>Also someone's BACK BACK BACK</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So I hear you’re getting a Trill symbiosis candidate?” Julian asked casually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rumors on this station!” Jadzia said. “Yes, she should be here in a few weeks. Hopefully this goes better than the last time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean when we had an entire universe blow a hole in the side of the station?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was at least six years ago!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You blew a hole in the side of the station.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With permission!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try not to do it again. No explosions for the rest of this pregnancy. That’s an order!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, sir,” Jadzia saluted lazily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And, I’m asking this as a friend, not your doctor, when are you planning to tell Starfleet?” he asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia scratched an itchy spot on her forehead, “As my friend, who is a doctor, when am I past the highest chance of miscarriage?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A few weeks ago,” Julian said. “By Trill or Klingon standards, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia nodded. “I thought so. I was planning to officially report to my commanding officer later this week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not to make this all about me, but are you alright with me talking about this with other people?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure Hatrel has already told Garak,” Jadzia said. “They send him messages daily.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s more often than </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> do,” Julian muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But yes, after next Monday, you can hang a banner if you want to. I’m not going to be able to hide it much longer anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was just Jadzia’s luck that Kira had a meeting with a Starfleet Admiral scheduled for just after Jadzia had made a formal appointment with her. And that some Admirals had no sense of decorum. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma’am,” Jadzia said, nodding to the admiral as she breezed through the door, a human woman in her late middle years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Admiral, so nice to see you. If you’ll give us a few moments, I’ll be with you shortly?” Kira said, her tone making it a question, but her expression a rather firm suggestion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine waiting here until you’re done,” the admiral said, crossing the room to sit on the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia and Kira exchanged a glance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can finish this later,” Jadzia said. “But it’s all in there anyway.” She passed Kira a padd, face down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Commander,” Kira said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia gave the admiral another look and went out of Kira’s office back to her station. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two hours later, the admiral, looking more than a little irritated, left and wordlessly stormed over to the turbolift.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira, looking similarly steamed, came over to Jadzia’s station. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I haven’t felt like a child who’s been scolded since I was… a child,” she muttered to Jadzia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that about?” Jadzia asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Admiral Imari had a lot to say about the ‘way Deep Space Nine is being run these days’,” Kira said, and Jadzia could hear the sarcasm dripping from the last phrase. “She went on and on about how non-Federation species were allowed to come and go freely on the station, doing ‘who knows what’ with minimal security. And when I reminded her that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am a non-Federation species, she made placating comments about how I had been essentially tamed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia blinked a few times, absorbing the information. “Wow. What a bitch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira snorted, “She left before I could tell her that my government is going to find it </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> interesting that Starfleet has high ranking officers who think such vile things. Who knows how this will affect the negotiations?” This last was said in a sarcastic tone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Are they getting close again?” Jadzia asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve heard rumors that it will be within six months,” Kira said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A lot of things happening within six months.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re talking about it now?” Kira asked. “That’s what you wanted to see me about!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is,” Jadzia confirmed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you need any accommodations?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not as yet, but I’ll let you know if and when,” Jadzia said. “Actually, Dr. Bashir has ordered no explosions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kira said, and Jadzia was happy to see some of her normal good humor had returned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately for the inhabitants and visitors of DS9, Admiral Imari’s presence was like a black pall over the station. She, and the two nameless security officers she had brought with her, were checking people’s identification randomly on the Promenade, breaking up gatherings, and generally making nuisances of themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira’s desk was overflowing with complaints by the end of the next day. Jadzia was sitting on the couch, helping her sort through them, and she shook her head, “Who does she think she is?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Kira said. Her feet were up on her desk, and her uniform’s top was unbuttoned. She loosely held a glass of something amber in one hand and a padd in the other. “I’m not actually sure she knows the station is a joint Bajoran-Federation operation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If this were a Federation ship and she came in like this, it would not be out of line for the Captain to contact Starfleet command about her,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But this isn’t a Federation ship,” Kira said. “And we do tend to handle things a little differently around here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, what are you going to do to her?” Jadzia asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not what I’m going to do to her,” Kira said. “But what she’s going to do to herself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’m going to enjoy this,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I know I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was late, and Jadzia was walking back to her quarters. She missed Worf and Hatrel, but they were supposed to be back the day after tomorrow. The last transport of the night was docking, and she stopped for a moment to watch the few passengers disembark. A few Andorians, some shifty looking Nausicaans, and a Ferengi. She was just about to leave when her jaw dropped at the last passenger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Odo!” she said, rather too loudly. The startled Changeling looked over her way, and she hurried across the Promenade to him. “Odo?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Odo said. “You are looking well, Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So are you,” Jadzia said. “Though I must confess, I didn’t expect to be seeing you again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect to be here,” Odo said. “But… well, there are matters I would discuss with certain parties, and not here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Jadzia said. “But you… will want to… see Kira?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More than you know,” Odo said. “I am ashamed to admit that I did not send any word ahead of my coming. And… this has been too awkward to ask anyone, how long has it been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since you left?” Jadzia asked. “Don’t you have a way to tell time on that homeworld of yours?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Odo said, “but it’s… different.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been a little over a year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So short a time,” Odo said. “I thought it had been much longer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As happy as I am to see you,” Jadzia said. “I am very tired, and you have something you’d rather be doing than talking to me. I’m on my way to bed, but if you want, Kira’s quarters are the same direction?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Odo smiled at her, “And you want to see the look on her face when I show up at her door.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guilty,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then, by all means,” Odo said, gesturing magnanimously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few minutes later saw them at Kira’s door, and Odo pressed the bell. Faint cursing came from inside, directed at the mother of the person who dared to ring the bell so late at night. The door slid open, and a very irritated Kira Nerys stood on the other side. “What?” she snapped before the door was fully open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good evening,” Jadiza said. “You have a visitor.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira’s expression changed from one of tired anger to shock, and then to joy. She wordlessly flung herself into Odo’s arms. Jadzia exchanged a glance with Odo, and then slipped away to her own quarters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Admiral Imari had not been updated on the arrival of Colonel Kira’s new hairclip/romantic partner to the station, and no one had seen fit to tell her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia, for her part, had done her best to ingratiate herself with the Admiral, partly to ease tensions between the station’s residents, and partly because she was trying to understand the woman’s vitriol toward any non-Federation race. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was giving the Admiral a tour of the upper pylons, when the admiral asked, “So where is your partner?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry?” Jadzia asked. “My partner?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your spouse?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not on the station at the moment,” Jadzia said. “He and our child were called to his homeworld.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, now see, duty to one’s own species,” Imari said. “I can respect that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With all due respect, ma’am,” Jadzia said, “I don’t follow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Federation is good because we are strong together, and remained strong in the face of an enemy. Surely you can understand that,” Imari said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We allied with the Romulans and the Klingons to defeat the Dominion,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And look what that got them,” Imari said. “It will take them decades to rebuild.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia bit her tongue, and turned the conversation to the pylon’s workings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Things came to a head when one of Imari’s lackeys was found harassing Nog outside of Quark’s. Kira and Jadzia, both off duty, had been trying to find a suitable crib for the baby when the shouting drew their attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s going on here?” Kira snapped. Jadzia swore she saw the hairclip/partner twitch just a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ferengi</span>
  </em>
  <span> won’t answer my questions,” the man said, the word sounding like a curse in his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ferengi</span>
  </em>
  <span> is your superior officer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ensign</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kira replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me? And you are?” the ensign asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ensign Johnston!” Imari’s voice cracked across the Promenade. “What are you doing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m following you orders, ma’am,” Johnston said. “This Ferengi was into the circuitry in the wall!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The wall of his uncle’s bar, on his off time,” Kira said. “Lieutenant Nog is more than welcome to try to sort out the wiring mess if he wants to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lieutenant Nog?” Johnston’s face went white. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Correct,” Nog said. “As I was trying to tell you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir, I apologize,” Johnston said in a small voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are confined to quarters when you’re not on duty until further notice,” Kira said. “And as station commander, I can enforce that order, Admiral.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As you see fit, Colonel,” Imari said icily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just don’t know what I’m going to do with her,” Kira said. “I’ve filed a complaint with Starfleet, but it’ll take a few days to get a response. And the Bajoran government wants her treated with kid gloves.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was deep in her cups, sitting on Jadzia’s couch, with an Odo-blanket draped over her. Jadzia still wasn't sure exactly why Odo had come back, but he had spent most of his time as objects on Kira’s person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It will shake itself out one way or the other, soon enough,” Jadzia said placatingly. “Besides. Worf and Hatrel are coming back tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> that,” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia had the day off, and was anxiously waiting for the arrival of the transport. The door rolled back and a blur the height of Hatrel shot out, straight for her. She caught them up and spun them around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mama!” they said. “I missed you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I missed you, Trel!” Jadzia replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worf followed his child at a more sedate pace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After greetings were exchanged, Jadzia asked, “How did Hatrel like Qo’noS?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They want to go back as soon as possible,” Worf said. “And I enjoyed having them with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can take them more often, if you want to,” Jadzia said. “How long are you staying this time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a few days,” Worf said with a grim expression. “I’m in the middle of something I need to finish before…” he gestured vaguely toward Jadzia’s torso.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, we’re telling people now,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent,” Worf said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get that thing down immediately!” Imari’s unmistakable voice shouted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia and Worf both turned to look, and found to their surprise, that she was yelling at Hatrel. They had not been paying attention to Hatrel, and the child had wandered away, and was presently scaling one of the support columns of the Promenade. They were clinging to the metal, an expression of terror on their face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imari and Kira were standing a few feet away, Kira’s expression stormy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fatherrrr!” they cried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are this child’s parents?” Imari asked, looking around. “It needs to be removed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worf and Jadzia both ran over, but Worf was faster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imari blocked his advance. “Stay out of this, Klingon,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Move,” Worf barked, but Imari stood, her knees locked. Worf’s expression twisted, and he went to pick the admiral up and move her bodily, but Hatrel’s grip was slipping too fast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly Kira’s hairclip/partner twisted, and Odo was there, catching Hatrel as they fell. He quickly turned and transferred them around Imari to Worf, before coming to stand at Kira’s side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is happening here?” Imari demanded. “Klingons and Romulans on a Federation station! And you! You are one of those Changelings! Security! Remove them immediately!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one moved a muscle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is no one listening to me?” Imari was starting to sound desperate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you’re trying to remove Federation and Bajoran citizens from a joint Federation-Bajoran station,” Kira said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A Klingon and a Romulan are neither Federation, nor Bajoran,” Imari said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am a Federation citizen,” Worf said. “As is my child. And if you ever refer to my child as ‘it’ in my presence again, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> damage you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A Klingon would never submit to being a Federation citizen,” Imari said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Admiral,” Jadzia said. “I believe I have some introductions. This is my husband, Ambassador Worf and our child Hatrel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imari went as white as Johnston had the day before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As well, this is Odo, the station’s former chief of security and the Bajoran ambassador to the Dominion.” The last was perhaps a bit of a stretch, but not a whole cloth lie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ambassadors…” Imari stuttered, “I apologize.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see,” Worf said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmph,” Odo said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And without another word, she practically fled. As soon as she was out of earshot, Jadzia broke into peals of laughter, and the rest of the assembled crowd followed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you see the look on her face?” Kira said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Totally worth it,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s being recalled by Starfleet Command,” Kira said under her breath for Jadzia’s ears only. “And I imagine she’s going to get the dressing down of a lifetime. Starfleet has already sent the proverbial fruit basket.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If Earth weren’t so far away, I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> a fly on the wall,” Odo said, almost wistfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for catching Hatrel,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Odo said. “It’s nice to meet you, Hatrel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hatrel looked up at Odo with wide dark eyes and smiled. “Hello!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hatrel, this is Odo. Odo, Hatrel,” Jadzia said. “Now, Hatrel, please stop climbing everything you see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Father said I could!” Hatrel said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia glanced at Worf, who looked just a bit guilty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only in our quarters or outside,” Jadzia temporized. “Or on Qo’nos, all right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hatrel nodded happily. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>bbbbbACK ON MY BULLSHIT</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jadzia was seven months pregnant and </span>
  <em>
    <span>over it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She was hot all the time, even when she wore cooling layers under her uniform. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuuuuuck,” she muttered to herself as she ran a simulation for the third time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Having a good day?” Kira asked on her way by. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia snorted. “As well as any other day. These readings don’t make any sense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me take a look,” Kira said, leaning over the console. “Ah. You transposed those two data points.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia checked, and Kira was, of course, right. Jadzia swore again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need a vacation,” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From my cushy job and peaceful life?” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Kira said. “How long has it been since you’ve been off the station?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A… while,” Jadzia said. A few months, at least. She hadn’t been on any away missions, and the last time she had been to Bajor was longer than she had thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what I thought. Shift’s over in an hour, let’s talk,” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An hour and a half later, they were sitting at the replimat with a cup of raktajino (for Kira) and prune juice (for Jadzia). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think I need a vacation?” Jadzia said. “I’m going to be taking time off in a few months when this baby arrives.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re going to be up all night with them,” Kira said. “That’s not a vacation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not wrong,” Jadzia said. “But where would I go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Qo’noS,” Kira said promptly. “Visit your inlaws. Let Hatrel give you a tour.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not going to argue? I had a very convincing argument all worked out,” Kira said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope. You’re right,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent,” Kira said. “You leave tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Jadzia squawked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Defiant</span>
  </em>
  <span> is headed that way to bring supplies to a Klingon outpost, and you’re going on it,” Kira said. “Martok’s expecting you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course he is,” Jadzia said. “Well, I suppose I’d better pack. What do pregnant Klingons wear, anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Very little, as it turned out, according to the computer’s records, and Jadzia ended up with clothes that were a bit more traditionally Trill, but there was one spectacularly busty outfit that she was planning to scandalize Worf with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Defiant </span>
  </em>
  <span>left at 0800 and Jadzia, officially a passenger, was rather happy to see the station retreat into the distance for once. She would only be gone two weeks, but it was nice to think that it wouldn’t explode in her absence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The three-day journey to Qo’noS was uneventful, and Jadzia spent most of her time maximizing the efficiency of the ship’s replicators out of sheer boredom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She beamed down to Martok’s private residence, and was immediately engulfed by the swampy heat of the place. It was late evening, and the shadows lengthened across the open ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jadzia!” Martok said, emerging from an overhang. “Welcome to Qo’noS.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Martok!” Jadzia said, and only grunted a little when Martok pulled her into a vigorous embrace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I trust the journey was pleasant?” he asked. “You’re looking hale.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tactful as ever,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell that to me from ten years ago and you would’ve been flat on your back,” Martok said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Time changes things,” Jadzia said. “But not everything, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Martok said. “Now please, come inside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia shouldered her bag and followed Martok into the well-lit interior of his home. It was evidently just after the evening meal, as there were plates being cleared away and the sounds of raucous song from a distant room. Martok led Jadzia to his private study.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll have to forgive me,” Martok said, sitting down, “I may have neglected to tell Worf that you were coming. He thinks we have one of our regular evening meetings today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia cackled. “Oh, that’s fine with me. Shocking Worf is one of my favorite pastimes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought as much,” Martok said. “He’ll be a few more hours, you know how political dinners go. But I do have…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with their usual timing, Hatrel burst through the door of the study, shouting “UNCLE MARTOK!” at the top of their lungs. They leapt off the ground into his arms with a rather impressive display of acrobatics. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hatrel!” Martok said, tossing the child into the air. “Greetings!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I almost got it today!” they said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time,” Martok said. “Targs are difficult and noble beasts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia was charmed. Martok was even more besotted with Hatrel than most people were, which was saying a lot, given how charismatic the child was, despite their shyness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gonna eat the WHOLE THING RAW!” Hatrel said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will write the song myself!” Martok said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hatrel held up an object, a miniature targ hunting spear, upon closer inspection, and gave a credible Klingon battle cry. As they turned, they suddenly caught sight of Jadzia and, dropping their spear, launched themself at her. She caught them, mostly on the couch, their arms clutched tightly around her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mama!” they said. “I love youuuuuu!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too, Trel,” Jadzia said. “Targ hunting?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Hatrel said. “Father says it’s honorable!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia laughed under her breath. “It is, indeed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Hatrel asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I needed a break from DS9,” Jadzia said. “And I wanted to come see your Father and Uncle Martok. Aunt Kira said you might even be able to give me a tour of your favorite places!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hatrel glanced at Martok. “Oh, could I?” they asked, suddenly pleading. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martok threw back his head in laughter. “Of course, little one. But tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t see anything in the dark anyway,” Hatrel said pragmatically. Then they screwed up their face. “At least not without special visors.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> spoken like a true Romulan,” Martok said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hatrel spent the next hour telling Jadzia about their targ hunt, barely pausing for breath. Toward the end they began to yawn intermittently and their eyes started to flutter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Time for bed, Hatrel,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Klahella can show you to the guest quarters,” Martok said, as Jadzia stood with Hatrel in her arms, half asleep on her shoulder. “Worf and Hatrel usually end up spending the night when he has these dinners, so they have a familiar room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Klingon woman at the door led Jadzia through a short series of hallways, and to a suite of rooms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The room on the left is Hatrel’s,” she said. “Can you find your way back?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia nodded, and Klahella left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sleep, Hatrel,” Jadzia said, laying the child in what was evidently their usual bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gonna kill targs,” Hatrel said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you will. I love you,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you too, Mama,” Hatrel said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia waited until Hatrel’s breaths slowed and deepened, tucked them in, and closed the door softly behind her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was easy to find her way back to Martok’s study, though she made a detour to the bathroom of the suite. The child she carried was large enough that they evidently thought her bladder was a trampoline. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martok was studying a padd when she returned, and he put it aside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s one hell of a child,” Martok said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia sat heavily down on a couch pushed against a wall. “You’re telling me,” she said. “And I have a feeling this one’s going to be even worse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martok laughed, “If I know anything, it’s that a Klingon child is a force to be reckoned with.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d drink to that,” Jadzia said, raising the glass of tea she had set aside earlier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martok raised his tankard of bloodwine and they both gulped. They spoke of Qo’nos’ internal politics, of DS9’s recent visitors, and how Hatrel was faring in Klingon society. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For a Romulan child, they are surprisingly well liked,” Martok said. “Even by those who don’t know them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of a door in the room beyond opening caught Martok’s attention, and he looked up, through the open doorway, and a smirk crossed his face as he rose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Worf!” he roared. “It’s about time you got here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stuffy old men,” Worf growled as he came through the door, and grasped Martok by the shoulder, pulling their heads together. “All they want to talk about is their own petty problems.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, why did we become politicians?” Martok asked. “Hitting things is so much easier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia stifled a giggle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Safer for the body,” Worf said. “Though I think half of them would like to poison my bloodwine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’d like to poison half of theirs,” Martok said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Worf said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two Klingons, mirth (or possibly gas, it was hard to tell sometimes) bubbling in her gut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worf sat down heavily in a chair, and Martok poured him a glass of something that looked suspiciously not like bloodwine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will be very glad to go home soon,” Worf said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Home?” Martok asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deep Space Nine,” Worf said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat in silence, drinking their drinks. Jadzia knew she was in shadow, but it was unlike Worf not to notice everything in a room the moment he stepped in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martok glanced directly at Jadzia, then stood, and announced to Worf, “I must step out for a moment. Have another glass, if you like.” He exited quickly, shutting the door behind him, and Worf regarded the rather gruesome paintings on the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia sighed heavily, and Worf spun around, hand reaching for the weapon at his waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Worf,” she said placidly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jadzia!” he said, not quite sure what to make of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I take it no one told you I was coming?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Worf said. “And I will flay them for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But later,” Jadzia said, getting to her feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But later,” Worf agreed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Martok is very tactful when he wants to be,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worf slid his hands into her hair, fanning it out around her shoulders, before he kissed her deeply. “I have missed you a great deal,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I you,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am considering resigning my post,” he sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Worf,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have not made up my mind yet,” he continued. “I wanted to discuss it with you first. But… I do not like the idea of being away from you and Hatrel and the baby so much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will talk about it in the morning,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agreed,” Worf said. “How long are you here for?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Until you’re scheduled to go back to DS9,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent,” Worf said, and slid his hands down Jadzia’s back to palm her ass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Jadzia said, quirking her eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worf slid his hands down a little further and hoisted Jadzia up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the position a little awkward with the curve of their child between them. A little adversity had never phased her, though, and she persevered with kissing the breath out of her husband. He backed up, and she opened the door with a hand, never breaking the kiss. The hallways were blessedly clear. The trip to the guest quarters took almost no time, and soon Worf had her dropped on the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hatrel?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Asleep,” she said. “They were happy to see me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re not the only one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few hours later, Worf lay behind Jadzia, spoon-fashion. His hand was wrapped protectively around her abdomen, and she could feel the baby doing spins. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you feel that?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The baby,” Jadzia said. “They’re kicking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the baby?” Worf sounded almost alarmed. “Are they supposed to do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia laughed. “Yes, they are.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worf took a deep breath. “Can they hear me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They can,” Jadzia confirmed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I…  talk to them?” Worf asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be my guest,” Jadzia said, “I’ve always particularly enjoyed Klingon nursery stories.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually,” Worf said, “I plan to tell them human fairy tales.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do not worry,” Worf said. “There is plenty of blood in this one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would expect nothing less from you,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once upon a time…” Worf began, and spun a tale of a girl in a blood-red cloak and the wolf that pursued her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia was enchanted, and though she was tired, she stayed awake just long enough to hear the end. Worf began humming after the happily ever after, and she fell asleep to what sounded suspiciously like the melody to Worf’s favorite Klingon opera. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Also me: writes 4k of Trek fic in less than 30 hours</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Three months ago:</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jadzia found Kasidy gazing out the windows of the Promenade toward the wormhole. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I keep expecting it to open up one day and for Ben to come flying back through,” Kasidy said. “The more time passes, the less I hope, though.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ben’s always kept his promises,” Jadzia said. “I believe he’ll be back.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kasidy huffed a laugh. “I think he comes to Bex in her dreams, as stupid as that sounds.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It doesn’t sound stupid,” Jadzia said.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The comm woke Jadzia out of a deep sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dax here,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jadzia,” Kasidy’s voice sounded strange. “Is there any chance you could come down to Bajor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything alright?” Jadzia asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… fine. Just, uh, something’s happened. And bring Jake. And Kira,” Kasidy said, and the call was terminated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia didn’t panic, not quite. If Kasidy was in danger, she would have called someone local. They had grown close in the last year. Jadzia quickly dressed, pulling a loose top on over her (she hoped) nearly full-term frame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dax to Kira,” she said, hitting the commbadge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few moments, then, “Dax?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kasidy just asked me to bring you and Jake to Bajor. She said something’s happened. I don’t have any details, but it sounded urgent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll meet you at landing pad C in twenty minutes. I’ll get Jake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia started to leave her quarters, but stopped at the door to Hatrel’s room. She couldn’t leave the child on their own, and 0334 was far too early to ask either Eeyso or Garak to watch them. Shrugging, she shoved a handful of their clothes into a bag, and lifted them gently out of their bed. They did not wake, and she counted her blessings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A groggy looking Jake Sisko and an anxious Kira Nerys stood impatiently outside the airlock to landing pad C when Jadzia and Hatrel arrived. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, let me take them,” Kira said, reaching for the child. Jadzia gladly let her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Jake asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Jadzia said. “Kasidy called me, and said ‘I’m fine but something’s happened.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice and vague,” Kira said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They entered the runabout and within minutes were on their way to Bajor. It was a short trip to Kasidy and Rebecca’s home, and it was near-midday there. Jadzia set the runabout down a few hundred meters from the front door, and by the time they were all out of it, Kasidy, one hand full of skirt and the other shading her eyes, was running toward them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kasidy, what’s happened?” Kira asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just… come with me,” Kasidy said, and they followed her at a trot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hatrel had woken when the runabout landed, and was looking around, confused at the change in their surroundings. “Mama, where are we?” they asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bajor,” Jadzia said. “Kasidy needed to see us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I play with Bex?” they asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inside of the small dwelling was dark after the blinding glare of the midday sun, and it took Jadzia’s eyes a few moments to adjust. She glanced around, her eyes skittered over him until he spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, old man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben!” she said, almost dropping Hatrel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad!” Jake said, coming in just behind Jadzia, and she stepped aside to let the young man rush forward and embrace his father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a long while before they broke apart, and Jadzia looked away after a few minutes, exchanging looks with Kira, then turning to Kasidy, her face a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He showed up this morning,” Kasidy said. “Just walked out of the woods like nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Prophets sent him back,” Kira said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They did,” Kasidy agreed. “And I owe them a debt for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake and Sisko dropped their embrace, though Jake didn’t step very far away from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Captain,” Kira said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Colonel,” Sisko said, a smile crossing his face. “I don’t suppose they’ve promoted you yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always overworked and underappreciated,” Kira said. Jadzia had the feeling it was an old joke between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And who is this?” Sisko asked, turning back toward Jadzia. Hatrel was standing next to her, their fingers twined in her pants, looking nervously at Sisko. He squatted down so he was on their level, and offered his hand. “I’m Ben.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hatrel, Ben is an old friend of mine,” Jadzia said. “He’s Jake and Bex’s dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hatrel narrowed their eyes. “Bex’s dad went away for a long time,” they said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now he’s back,” Jadzia said. “Your Father always comes back, doesn’t he?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hatrel nodded cautiously, then carefully took Sisko’s hand. “I’m Hatrel, child of Worf,” they said, giving their name in the Klingon style. Jadzia tried to hide her amusement, but she knew Kira had seen the smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleasure to meet you, Hatrel, child of Worf,” Ben said. “I am Benjamin, son of Joseph.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you really Bex’s father?” they asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” Sisko said. “I had to go away before she was born, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a complicated question,” Ben said, “but the short answer was to help a lot of people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mama says you went into the wormhole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen to your mother,” Ben said. “She’s usually right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hatrel cracked a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kira had to return to the station for duty, and swore she wouldn’t reveal the reason for their early-morning jaunt to Bajor. Jadzia, as of two days ago, was on maternity leave. Dr. Bashir hypothesized that the baby would be putting in an appearance in about two weeks, but made no promises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hatrel had fallen asleep again after a few hours, they were not a morning person, and currently was sleeping on the couch while Jadzia, Kasidy, Sisko, and Jake sat at the dining table. Bex was playing quietly on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you come back now?” Jadzia asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m needed,” Ben said. “You know how the Bajoran-Federation negotiations are going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘As well as can be expected’,” Jadzia quoted dryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Ben said. “We… they… I’m supposed to make things smoother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia laughed. “Good luck with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, old man,” Ben said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you back for good, Dad?” Jake asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” Sisko said. “I told them I wasn’t leaving my wife and children again, and they agreed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kasidy replicated a meal for them, breakfast for Jadzia and Jake, and lunch for her and Ben. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After they had eaten, Ben turned to his wife and said, “Kasidy, do you mind if I take Dax for a walk? I want to show her some of the orchards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Kasidy said. “We’ll be here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll only be about an hour,” Ben said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hatrel will probably wake up,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can entertain Hatrel for a while,” Kasidy said. “Go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben and Jadzia went out into the warm spring afternoon and wandered through the dappled shade of the trees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to come back to Starfleet?” Jadzia asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so,” Ben said. “DS9 is in more than capable hands, and I’ve had my fill of command for a lifetime. But… after Bajor’s entrance into the Federation is finalized, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll need all your time to keep up with Rebecca,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I believe you,” Ben said. “You look like you have your hands full.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hatrel’s usually fine by themself,” Jadzia said. “But I already worry about when this one starts walking.” She ran her hand over her stomach. “What was I thinking, creating a child with a Klingon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell on two feet,” Ben said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can only imagine,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you end up with a Romulan child anyway?” Ben asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worf found them,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She told Ben the story of Hatrel’s adoption, and he shook his head. “I will never understand Romulans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me either,” Jadzia said with a shrug. “But I try to expose them to as much Romulan culture as possible. Though they seem to think they’re a Klingon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Hatrel, child of Worf,’” Ben quoted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he’s been coaching them,” Jadzia said. “They do spend a great deal of time on Qo’noS. I still don’t know how I feel about my four year old child targ hunting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben laughed, a deep resonant thing. “That’s an image.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have their own spear,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can believe it,” Ben said. “Now… can you tell me about Rebecca? I’ve seen her life, of course, but I can’t ask Kasidy this. It’s too much. I just want to know what she’s like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia thought for a moment, then told Ben about his daughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They came back around from the orchard to find Jake playing referee between Hatrel and Bex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s time we go,” Jadzia said. “Leave the four of you alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, old man,” Ben said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dax to DS9,” Jadzia said, hitting her commbadge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Ops. Do you need a ride back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like you read my mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll have a runabout over in half an hour.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Dax out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia collected Hatrel and her bag, bade Kasidy, Jake, and Bex farewell, and went over to the landing area. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The runabout arrived promptly, piloted by Nog, who waved enthusiastically at Ben from the cockpit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kira told you, didn’t she?” Jadzia asked, sitting down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She swore me to secrecy,” Nog said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trip back to the station was as short as the trip out had been, and soon Jadzia was back on the Promenade. She considered taking Hatrel to the holosuite, but they had already had a lot of excitement for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to go back to our quarters and play with the blocks or visit your Uncle Garak and Uncle Julian?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Garak!” Hatrel said emphatically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After confirming with Garak that he was willing to entertain them, Jadzia arrived at Julian’s quarters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Hatrel, Dax,” Garak said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Garak!” Hatrel said, hugging the Cardassian. It was always funny to Jadzia to see Garak and the child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how are you today?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw Bex’s dad!” Hatrel said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you?” Garak sounded astonished, looking up at Jadzia over Hatrel’s head. She nodded, but mimed keeping a secret. He nodded back. “That sounds exciting. But are you supposed to be telling me that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hatrel looked guiltily at Jadzia. “No,” they said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Trel,” Jadzia said. “But you can’t tell anyone else. I know Uncle Garak can keep a secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one else! Not even if they ask!” Hatrel said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not honorable to share secrets,” Garak said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Hatrel said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It never failed to astonish Jadzia how well Garak related to the child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He entertained Hatrel with wild stories for a while, before they grew bored and asked to play with the dolls Garak sewed clothes for. He obliged them, and they were soon engrossed in an elaborate game. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a favor to ask you,” Garak said, sliding a padd toward Jadzia. “Read this. Not now, and let your husband read it too. Get back to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pocketed the padd, curiosity burning a hole in the pocket, but didn’t read it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later that night, after Hatrel was in bed, she pulled the padd out and read the entire thing. It was  a personnel file on a high-ranking Cardassian family. There seemed to be only one survivor, a pregnant woman. Jadzia wasn’t sure why Garak had given it to her, but she would let Worf give it a once-over and see if he had a different angle on it. He was due back tomorrow, this time for a few months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She splayed her hand over her taut stomach, and the child inside kicked in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you going to be?” she murmured to them. “What are you like?” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>SOON: BABY DOWN</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Most women who were forty three weeks pregnant wouldn’t be attacking a holographic punching bag with a bat’leth, but Jadzia Dax wasn’t most women. She was tired of being pregnant, and especially with this baby. She remembered being pregnant in previous lives, but despite their drastically longer gestation, Trill pregnancies usually didn’t get cumbersome until the final weeks. She felt like she was smuggling a large melon, and had been for some months. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her time on the holosuite program ran out, and she wiped a hand across her forehead as the bat’leth dematerialized. The door opened for her, and she made her way out of the bar, and onto the Promenade. She only made it a few dozen yards before she paused to sit down on a bench. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pair of Bajoran children ran past, and she smiled after them. Bajor’s acceptance into the Federation had been announced two days past, and the signing was due to take three days hence. The Bajorans had taken the return of their Emissary as a sign from the Prophets (and privately Jadzia thought it had more to do with Ben’s duty to his family than to the Bajoran people, but she’d never say it out loud), and the talks had gone smoothly from there. Already, many of the Bajoran Militia were (if not officially sanctioned, it wasn’t being discouraged) wearing Starfleet uniforms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia huffed a sigh and stood. The bench she had been sitting on suddenly dissolved and reformed itself into Odo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Odo! Sorry!” she said, surprised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No apology needed, Commander,” he said. “I was simply trying to understand the state of being of the bench.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tilted her head at that, and he cracked a grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A bit of Changeling humor,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” she said. “How is life on the station treating you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I must admit I have been enjoying myself. Starfleet might be cumbersome and bureaucratic, but the new security chief they assigned is </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> as good as I was,” Odo said. “It’s entertaining watching him try to keep the place in order. And watching Quark running circles around him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve seen him commit ten crimes this week,” Jadzia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve seen thirty,” Odo said with a laugh. “But that’s just Ferengi for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Planning on sticking around for a while?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, actually,” Odo said. “I think my people need time to ruminate on what they’ve done, and I, for one, would like to find a few more of the infants who were sent out, and help them find their way home. Diverse perspectives.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you find them stiflingly boring?” Jadzia asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! For all that they talk about monoforms, we exist in our liquid state most of the time, and there’s only so much space on the planet to take solid form.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were walking idly down the Promenade, and were just approaching the infirmary when Julian stepped out, waving to get their attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dax! Sorry to interrupt, but can I have a few minutes of your time?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll speak to you later, Dax,” Odo said with a nod.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia followed the doctor into the infirmary. He led her to one of the biobeds, and indicated she should sit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, as you know, there are no known Trill-Klingon hybrids,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do wish you would stop referring to my child as a hybrid,” she said, but nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I have to admit my surprise that your pregnancy has been as calm as it has,” he continued. “But I would like to prepare for the possibility that the birth will be more, ah…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dramatic?” she supplied sardonically. “I’ve considered the same thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We know that this baby is rather… robust,” Julian said. “Normal Trill infants are six or seven pounds at birth, approximately the same size as a human infant, but Klingon babies are regularly twice that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not inspiring confidence, Julian,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m trying to give you all the facts!” he said defensively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I’m sorry, please continue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your child is about eight pounds now,” Julian said, referencing a padd. “I stand by my prediction of forty five weeks, so they might be nine pounds by that time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing wildly out of the norm,” Jadzia said. “One of us had a baby who was ten pounds.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m also slightly concerned about their Klingon, ah, features,” Julian said. “You’re not designed to withstand that kind of…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re afraid they’re too pointy for me,” Jadzia said. “So give me the best and worst case scenarios. I know you have a dozen plans.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Best case scenario, you go into labor on your own, show up here after a few hours, the baby comes out in two or three pushes, and there’s minimal tearing,” Julian said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And worst?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, worst is you both dying, but that’s not going to happen,” Julian said, a bit too lightly. “But if things don’t progress naturally, I would induce you, it wouldn’t lead to any productive labor. In that case we’d have to either transport the child out, or in an emergency, perform a Cesarean section.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia nodded. They had discussed this before, not in such explicit terms, but she was not unaware of the risks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And, and please be honest with me, what do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> will happen?” she asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be blunt, I don’t expect this baby to be born naturally,” Julian said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t either,” Jadzia said. “I’m almost afraid of what I’m unleashing on the universe with this child. I don’t expect their birth to be anything other than incredibly dramatic.” She smiled impishly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My sentiments exactly. Now, I’ll just give you some vitamins, and you can be on your way,” Julian said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three days later, Jadzia was in formal dress uniform, standing behind Commander Kira’s chair as the metaphorical ink dried on Bajor’s admittance to the United Federation of Planets. Captain Sisko sat to her left and the Federation Ambassador to Bajor to her right. There was a round of applause and then the champagne (synthehol) came out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The formal atmosphere dissolved, and the crowd dispersed to form smaller groups. She made a turn about the room, talking to people she knew briefly before returning to the table, and sitting down heavily in the chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Someone came up from behind her, and she looked up to see Kira smiling down at her. Kira sat down in the chair next to her, and slid a cup across the surface of the table. “Prune juice,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Jadzia said fervently. “Champagne isn’t my favorite, even when I’m not pregnant. I will be glad to stop drinking this though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the last month with Yoshi, I couldn’t stop drinking pineapple juice,” Kira said. “And now I can’t even look at it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Worf and the baby can have all they want,” Jadzia said. “That Starfleet uniform looks good on you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s very stiff,” Kira said, tugging at the formal uniform. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ask the replicator to give it to you fresh out of the dryer next time,” Jadzia said. “Works on the regular uniform too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have to do that,” Kira said. “Though that one is much more comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Much better than the jumpsuit,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Much better than </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> jumpsuit,” Kira said. “It’s more flattering, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia blushed, just a little. She had given Kira a once over more than once in the last few days, and she had a feeling Kira had noticed. Kira was attractive all the time, but the Starfleet uniform made her into just what Jadzia tended to find hottest in a person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right about that,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira winked at her, smiled, and said, “Thought I saw you looking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jadzia blushed even deeper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Two days after the investiture of Bajor, Captain Sisko retired from Starfleet to private life on Bajor. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>IT'S BABY TIME, BITCHES</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jadzia woke gradually, with a vague awareness of something odd happening with her body. When the discomfort intensified into a brief burst of pain, her hand shot to her lower back, and she could nearly feel the muscles tightening, then relaxing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled out of bed and stood, warily waiting for another contraction, but none came. She went to the bathroom, washed her face, and took care of her other morning business. A second contraction came about ten minutes later, when she was putting the fastening on her hair, a tight braid to keep it out of her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia left the bathroom and went through the night-dark living room, it was just after 0500 hours, to Hatrel’s room. She woke them gently with a hand on their shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mama?” they asked blearily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Trel,” she said. “I’m going to take you to Uncle Garak’s for the day, alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They nodded, and Jadzia picked them up, trailing their blanket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She toed into her slippers and walked out into the corridor. The trip to Julian’s quarters was short, and she rang the bell. Luckily for her, Julian and Garak were both morning people and were both up and dressed. Julian was already out, on his way to the infirmary, and Garak answered the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What an unexpected pleasure so early in the morning,” he said. “Please, come in. What can I do for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you watch Hatrel for the day?” Jadzia asked. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a busy day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hatrel was not quite asleep again, and perked up at Garak’s voice. “Hi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello!” Garak said, reaching for the child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went willingly, and just as they passed out of Jadzia’s arms, another contraction wrapped itself around her. She hissed, and ground her teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Garak said, understanding. “I hope your baby has a happy birthday today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And so do I,” Jadzia said. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Garak said. “Now, Hatrel…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia left and returned to her quarters. She picked her commbadge up off the nightstand and called the doctor. “Dax to Dr. Bashir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Jadzia,” Julian said. “Is everything alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s great,” Jadzia said. “Just letting you know that I’m having contractions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Julian said. “That’s wonderful. Right on schedule, too. How far apart are they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ten minutes so far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come see me when they’re five minutes apart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood. I left Hatrel with Garak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that will end well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me if anything unusual happens,” Julian said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She set the commbadge down, and sat down on the couch. She considered waking Worf, but he likely wouldn’t be getting much sleep for a while, so she let him rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour later, the lights came up as the day cycle started, and Jadzia heard the sounds of Worf getting out of bed. He came out into the living room, looking slightly concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are,” he said. “Why are you up so early?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woke up with contractions, took Hatrel to Garak’s, and now I’m just waiting for them to speed up,” Jadzia said casually, looking up from the book she was reading. “Good morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Six expressions at once crossed Worf’s face, and none of them was a very warrior-like one. Coupled with his sleep-loose hair, he looked slightly crazed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are in labor,” he stated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Jadzia said, putting the book aside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you not wake me?” he asked, voice rising.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s only been an hour,” Jadzia said, putting on her most calming voice. “And it’s probably going to be a long day. I thought I’d let you sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worf sat down on the couch next to her, and wrapped an arm around her. “I am terrified,” he said very quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia slid a hand into his hair. “I know,” she said. “And I know nothing I can say will change that, but it’s going to be alright.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worf turned and buried his face in her hair, pulling her into his chest. “I do not know what I would do if I lost you again,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would deal with it,” Jadzia said. “But I’m not going to die, so we don’t need to worry about that! Now, come, you should get something to eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three hours later, Jadzia decided it was time to go to the infirmary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re four minutes apart,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a room prepared,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She followed him into one of the surgical rooms, Worf following her like a looming shadow. Its lights were lowered and most of the screens were turned off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Normally I’m not an advocate for births happening in such a medicalized setting, but given the… unique circumstances, I felt this would be safer,” Julian said in an apologetic tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What circumstances?” Worf asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You understand the risks with this birth?” Julian asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Worf said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If surgery becomes necessary, this room is already equipped to handle it,” Julian said. “If not, it’s just a bit more sterile than we would usually need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia set a hand on Worf’s forearm. “It’s fine, Worf. I knew this was going to happen, we talked about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worf gnashed his teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just leave you two alone for a while,” Julian said. “If you need anything just shout.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia sat down on the biobed and reclined against the backrest. “You know,” she said. “We still don’t have a name for this baby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t?” Worf asked. “I thought you would name them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I can if you want, but you’re quite opinionated, usually,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well,” Worf said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s alright with you, I’d rather not name them after anyone in particular,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I agree,” Worf said. “I know you already have names chosen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Jadzia said. “But I want to hear your suggestions first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bit down as another contraction rippled through her and Worf’s expression darkened for just a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not name Alexander,” he said. “His mother did. I would have called the child Edrak after my great grandfather.” He paused to think, and Jadzia did not fill the silence. “I would like this child to have a name that honors all of their heritage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a tall proposition,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Worf said. “I do not know what to name a boy child, but a girl child… I would like to call her Saskia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds like you’ve put more thought than just a few seconds into it,” Jadzia said, probing gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have,” Worf said. “It is a name from my adoptive family’s ancestry and it is an ancient Klingon name as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia started to speak, but got cut off by another contraction. She took a breath and started again. “A boy I would like to call Kirin, and a girl Sazi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sazi,” Worf said, turning the word over in his mouth, </span>
  <em>
    <span>saaaay-zeee. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“We might name her Saskia and call her Sazi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worf, you’re a genius,” Jadzia said. And then, a pain more intense than any of the ones before struck her and she pitched forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Bashir,” Worf called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian came bustling back in, and scanned Jadzia with a tricorder. “It’s time!” he said, rather too brightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twenty minutes later, in as sedate a manner as these things ever went, the baby made an entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a girl!” Julian said, handing the child up to the nurse standing behind him. She placed the child on Jadzia’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia wrapped her hands around her daughter in astonishment, the rest of the world fading away as she took in the infant’s tiny form. She was vaguely aware of the brush of Worf’s still-loose hair on her shoulder, and then his hand came around hers behind the baby’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia brushed a finger down her forehead, tracing the ridges. They were a tiny version of her father’s, slightly less pronounced. Her hair, curled up and away from them, framing the faint spots that ran down the sides of her forehead to her toes. The spots of most Trill were light at birth and darkened in the first year of life. On her back were ridges, fainter than a full Klingon’s, but still present. She snuffled, and Jadzia fell in love all over again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Sazi,” Worf said in a deep rumble, just in Jadzia’s ear. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>qaqIHmo' jIQuch.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jadzia looked up at Worf, just a moment’s glance away from Sazi, and his expression was one of total besottment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll just leave you three alone for a while,” Julian said quietly. “Though, do you have a name for her? I’ll enter it into the records.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saskia,” Jadzia said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saskia, daughter of Jadzia, of House Martok,” Worf said. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*translates to: Pleased to meet you. Because apparently Klingon has no word for hello</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can be found on the backs of space-dwelling pitcher plants @fireflyslove</p></blockquote></div></div>
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